What do you think of this poem by lord byron?

I had a dream, which was not all a dream.


The bright sun was extinguish'd, and the stars


Did wander darkling in the eternal space,


Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth


Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air;


Morn came and went--and came, and brought no day,


And men forgot their passions in the dread


Of this their desolation; and all hearts


Were chill'd into a selfish prayer for light:


And they did live by watchfires--and the thrones,


The palaces of crowned kings--the huts,


The habitations of all things which dwell,


Were burnt for beacons; cities were consum'd,


And men were gather'd round their blazing homes


To look once more into each other's face;


Happy were those who dwelt within the eye


Of the volcanos, and their mountain-torch:


A fearful hope was all the world contain'd;


Forests were set on fire--but hour by hour


They fell and faded--and the crackling trunks


Extinguish'd with a crash--and all was black.


The brows of men by the despairing light


Wore an unearthly aspect, as by fits


The flashes fell upon them; some lay down


And hid their eyes and wept; and some did rest


Their chins upon their clenched hands, and smil'd;


And others hurried to and fro, and fed


Their funeral piles with fuel, and look'd up


With mad disquietude on the dull sky,


The pall of a past world; and then again


With curses cast them down upon the dust,


And gnash'd their teeth and howl'd: the wild birds shriek'd


And, terrified, did flutter on the ground,


And flap their useless wings; the wildest brutes


Came tame and tremulous; and vipers crawl'd


And twin'd themselves among the multitude,


Hissing, but stingless--they were slain for food.


And War, which for a moment was no more,


Did glut himself again: a meal was bought


With blood, and each sate sullenly apart


Gorging himself in gloom: no love was left;


All earth was but one thought--and that was death


Immediate and inglorious; and the pang


Of famine fed upon all entrails--men


Died, and their bones were tombless as their flesh;


The meagre by the meagre were devour'd,


Even dogs assail'd their masters, all save one,


And he was faithful to a corse, and kept


The birds and beasts and famish'd men at bay,


Till hunger clung them, or the dropping dead


Lur'd their lank jaws; himself sought out no food,


But with a piteous and perpetual moan,


And a quick desolate cry, licking the hand


Which answer'd not with a caress--he died.


The crowd was famish'd by degrees; but two


Of an enormous city did survive,


And they were enemies: they met beside


The dying embers of an altar-place


Where had been heap'd a mass of holy things


For an unholy usage; they rak'd up,


And shivering scrap'd with their cold skeleton hands


The feeble ashes, and their feeble breath


Blew for a little life, and made a flame


Which was a mockery; then they lifted up


Their eyes as it grew lighter, and beheld


Each other's aspects--saw, and shriek'd, and died--


Even of their mutual hideousness they died,


Unknowing who he was upon whose brow


Famine had written Fiend. The world was void,


The populous and the powerful was a lump,


Seasonless, herbless, treeless, manless, lifeless--


A lump of death--a chaos of hard clay.


The rivers, lakes and ocean all stood still,


And nothing stirr'd within their silent depths;


Ships sailorless lay rotting on the sea,


And their masts fell down piecemeal: as they dropp'd


They slept on the abyss without a surge--


The waves were dead; the tides were in their grave,


The moon, their mistress, had expir'd before;


The winds were wither'd in the stagnant air,


And the clouds perish'd; Darkness had no need


Of aid from them--She was the Universe

What do you think of this poem by lord byron?
Shocking that it is Lord Byron!


Well, it is very morbid and black but also it feels as though he had a vision of the future Death of our Solar System...Maybe he was influenced by the scientific community of his time and ideas about the death of our Sun...?
Reply:Wonderful imagery. It struck me that this is what nuclear winter would be like.
Reply:Yawn Yawn,has it finished?
Reply:Always loved Lord Byron - dark, but beautiful.
Reply:This was written during the infamous Year Without a Summer, when the eruption of Tambora had sent a reeking sulphurous cloud all over the world, cutting off the sunlight and plunging the earth into a dreadful period of intense cold and seemingly neverending darkness.





It was during this dreadful time that the legendary "Frankenstein" was written, among other such works.





Dark as it was, this is the very epitome of Gothic Romantic expression, rivalled by few others.





Magnificent. Thanks.
Reply:his ode to boatswain his ever devoted newfoundland dog,,,,,,,,much better fer mine,,,also the epitaph at newstead abbey about boatswain,,,,,,,,,,heartwrenching
Reply:Sad--the end of the world.





(I just read 'fiatknox's explanation--I was way off,indeed)


But that was my interpretation upon first reading this.
Reply:Oh - my - God.. Seemed so beautiful at first, but the image of those 2 enemies surviving and dying at the altar at the sight of each other's faces made my skin crawl.. how creepy.. Poor dog, too :(
Reply:I didnt read it all.. it was too long but the first half is beautiful
Reply:A heap of mince
Reply:not a lot.
Reply:awesome
Reply:Byron--this sounds depressing the first read-through. But the imagery and stark beauty call for a second look. Thanks for posting! And thanks to fiatknox for the info!
Reply:1 pile of f****n s**t
Reply:Long.
Reply:Blubbers and grabs the tissue box ......................